White Magic
by TheAngryTori
Summary: Various episodes centering around the relationship between Dr. Bruce Banner and my OC, Sága. Takes place after the events of the story titled with her name. Bruce/OC
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello! Welcome! If you haven't read my other story, Sága, yet, you might be a bit lost. I would recommend reading that one first. If you have already read it, and for some reason decided to check this out too, then thank you so much for being wonderful and lovely and everything that is good in the world.

This is going to be a collection of episodes mostly centering around the relationship between Dr. Bruce Banner and my OC, Sága. They probably won't be in chronological order, so I'll try to remember to tell you when it takes place in the timeline. This one in particular occurs about a month after the Epilogue of Sága, several weeks before Christmas.

I'm really nervous about this one. I really hope you like it. I would love to hear what you think, or any ideas you have for future episodes! I fully intend to (eventually) incorporate all suggestions that I've received, because I love you guys!

* * *

Episode One: _The Doctor is In_

"Where do you think you're going?"

The sound of Tony's voice from behind the bar surprised him, and Bruce looked up from the tablet on his lap. Sága must have just walked into the lounge, and was shrugging into a thick brown cardigan. It was still a bit strange to see her in jeans, and he recognized this sweater as one of his. They shared a closet, which was nothing of an inconvenience since neither of them owned many clothes at all. Pepper regularly took her shopping; but Sága had a simplistic and practical taste in clothing, and seemed to greatly prefer Bruce's sweaters over anything else anyway.

"I'm going Christmas shopping," she answered Tony, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"With _who_?" Tony pressed, sounding for all the world like an overbearing parent.

She sighed, throwing a glare his way. "I am not a _child_, Stark. I am much, _much_ older than any of you, and I am perfectly capable of doing my own shopping."

"She'll be fine, Tony," Bruce spoke up, hoping to put an end to their bickering before Sága drew her sword and threatened Tony's life. Again. "She's gotten the hang of it by now."

Sága grinned triumphantly. "Thank you! See? I'll be fine." Tony huffed and crossed his arms in a pout, but didn't say anything else against it. Grin still in place, Sága hurried over to the couch Bruce was sprawling on, leaning over the back of it to kiss him on the cheek. "I'll be back before you know it," she promised, heading for the elevator.

"Are you taking a cab?" Bruce asked. It was a valid question; Sága often teleported to wherever she was going, popping up in an alleyway or abandoned building near her destination and walking the rest of the way. She said it was more efficient, and that cars were much too slow to suit her, but Bruce worried that she might be seen.

Sága was very fond of her privacy, but the media was rabidly determined to meet her—especially so now they'd figured out that the woman who was spotted teleporting and fighting in footage of the so-called "Battle for Manhattan," was the same woman Tony Stark had hired as head of security for Stark Tower.

"Actually, I think I'll walk," she informed him. "It is surprisingly warm out today; I would not want to waste it."

Bruce chewed on his lip nervously. He didn't like that much better, honestly. "Alright. Just…be careful, okay?"

She laughed softly, placing her chin in her hand and smiling at him from within the elevator. "You are so sweet. You know that I will. Don't worry about me."

He smiled in response as the elevator doors slid closed, trying to hide the nagging feeling in his gut that this was a bad idea. He told himself that he was being ridiculous; that she could handle herself, and that she could be back at the Tower in the blink of an eye if anything did happen. He was just being selfish and possessive, wanting to keep her here, with him, at all times. Perhaps the other guy was having more of an influence on him than he realized.

Bruce removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the words and figures on his screen.

Sága had said something, back on the helicarrier, about how SHIELD's work with the Tesseract had signaled other planets and somehow attracted the Chitauri. Lately, he'd been poring over Selvig's notes about the cube, trying to find something that would indicate such a signal going out. If he could find that and understand how it happened, then perhaps SHIELD would be able to prevent such a thing next time they got it into their heads to tinker with some other piece of alien tech they'd found.

But after hours of reading, the lines were beginning to blur. These couches were too comfortable for their own good, and he was so tired…

He laid his head back on the armrest and closed his eyes, just for a minute…

* * *

"_Excuse me, sir, Dr. Banner. We have a problem._"

Bruce snapped his eyes open at the urgency in Jarvis' voice, only to find Stark approaching his face with a felt-tipped marker. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice thick from sleep.

Stark hurriedly hid his hands behind his back and stepped away, feigning ignorance. "What's the matter, Jarvis?"

"It's Ms. Sághildr."

Bruce lurched forward and to his feet as the screen spanning an entire wall of the room ignited into life. It was split into four different images, which appeared to be the live video feeds from several security cameras, all focused on the entrance to Bergdorf's. For half a moment, Bruce wondered how Jarvis managed to access these cameras, or if Tony had managed to install the AI in every building in the city; but he didn't have time to stop and wonder at the program's resourcefulness.

On the screen, a massive crowd of a hundred or more had mobbed the entrance to Bergdorf's, even blocking a lane and a half of traffic. People were getting out of their cabs to see the commotion. News vans were everywhere. Police cars were screeching to a halt, sirens blaring, the officers sprinting to aid the small team of security guards trying to force the mob back, away from the doors, away from a figure with familiar white hair…

_Away from Sága!_

"Jarvis, what the hell?" Stark demanded. "Where did all these people come from?"

"It appears that her location was posted to Twitter," Jarvis answered, opening the social media site and scrolling rapidly through a list of related posts—500 and counting. "She has quite the following. This account," Jarvis began highlighting all posts by an account titled 'WhiteHairedAvengerChick', "has initiated this event, suggesting that they all converge to meet her."

"Awesome, she's a pop culture icon. So why doesn't she just teleport back here? Is she signing autographs or something?"

"No, look!" Bruce corrected, pointing. Sága was bent over with her elbows on her knees, her hands over her ears. "There's too many of them. They're too close, and too loud; she can't focus."

Jarvis zoomed in on her, and Tony sucked in a breath. The other guy was enraged at the look of distress and fear on her face. He nearly burst through Bruce's skin, wanting to make them all suffer for frightening her.

"Shit, we need to go get her," Tony muttered, hurrying over to the panel in the wall where he kept a version of his Iron Man suit. "Let me get changed, we'll get there fastest if we fly."

On the screen, a glass bottle sailed over the crowd. Bruce watched in horror as it struck Sága in the face, shattering upon impact. Almost instantly, the mob of eager fans dissolved into an all-out brawl.

"_No_," Bruce ground out, his entire body shaking as he let go of what little control he had, "_Too slow."_

Hulk wracked through Bruce's body, ripping through his shirt with ease, lengthening his bones and expanding his muscles in a matter of seconds. Jarvis barely slid the doors open in time before Hulk was surging through them, launching himself off of the balcony of Stark Tower. Banner knew where to go, so Hulk did, too. He ran across rooftops and leapt off of buildings, until he finally crashed down in the middle of the street outside of Bergdorf's.

Cars swerved to miss him, laying on their horns, but Hulk simply roared back at them. He wanted to crush the puny metal boxes, but Banner told him no. Sága first. Smash later.

A few members of the crowd heard the roar and turned, screaming as they tried to run away. Banner was glad they ran. He was afraid that Hulk might hurt someone. Hulk wanted to hurt them, but Sága needed his help. Even more than he wanted to smash, Hulk didn't want to let her down. So he shoved his way through the crowd, roaring so more of the puny humans would run away, pushing them out of the way as gently as he could, until he reached Sága and picked her up in his arms and held her close.

She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. Iron Man eased himself into a landing beside him, patting Hulk's arm. "Nice save, big guy. Can you take her home now? I'll try to deal with the media."

Hulk nodded with a forceful grunt. He didn't like the way Sága's body was shaking, or the fact that her face was wet against his chest. Banner would know what to do, so Hulk would take her back to the tower, where Banner could make her good again.

Hulk jumped into the air, clinging to buildings with one hand while keeping the other tight around Sága. She held on to him, too.

Sága trusted Hulk. Sága wasn't afraid of Hulk. Sága didn't want to hurt Hulk, or Banner, or Tony. Sága needed Hulk now, so Hulk would help.

Hulk jumped back to the balcony of the tower, carrying Sága through the only set of doors big enough for him to fit through. He set her down inside, on the same couch Banner had slept on earlier, and saw that Sága's face wasn't just wet, but was also red.

Hulk knew that was the wrong color for her face to be. He wanted to go back and smash those puny people who scared her, but the wet red stuff was bad. Sága needed Banner now, so Hulk would have to wait. Smash later.

Bruce felt his body shrink back to normal size; the pain of his muscles tearing and bones breaking was almost as welcome and familiar as an old friend by now. He gasped for air, forcing himself to remember how to breathe with such small lungs. He was overcome by a wave of dizziness, swaying slightly, but it passed quickly. He unscrewed his eyes, falling to his knees in front of Sága.

Her eyes were wide and unseeing, her pupils tightly constricted to the size of pinpricks. Shards of glass were scattered over the right side of her face, blood smeared over her skin and on her hands and, now, on his chest. Her entire body was quaking uncontrollably.

"Sága, dear?" he asked softly, "I need to clean you up. Will you stay here?" After a lengthy pause, she nodded her head yes; but she gave no more response than that. Bruce kissed her forehead before rising to his feet, jogging over to the elevator. He rode it down to his room, pulling on a new shirt and pair of pants before grabbing his doctor's kit and running back upstairs.

She was still sitting in the same spot, not seeming to have moved. He went to kneel in front of her again, wordlessly pulling supplies out of his bag. He cleaned the blood away from her hands and face first, allowing him to see the glass more clearly. His own hands were shaking, and he took a deep breath to calm himself and still them enough to remove the glass with tweezers. To his relief, the cuts were shallow, albeit many. Twenty-four shards were pulled from her skin, and she didn't even flinch.

"Sága, hey, look at me," Bruce demanded, grabbing her shoulders firmly. "Come on, dear, you can do this. There you go…" She blinked, slowly but surely, her pupils beginning to dilate as she tried to focus on him.

"…Bruce..? Oh, _Bruce!_" She lurched forward, her hands scrambling forward to grab him and pull him close and hold him there forever. Her fingertips briefly brushed against his temple; Bruce gasped as his vision suddenly swam and shifted and _changed_.

He wasn't sure how he ended up facedown in the dirt, or why, or where this crowd of leering, dirty children had come from. They were all shouting at him, screaming in a language he couldn't begin to make heads or tails of. One particularly tall boy towered over him, an arrogant grin on his face and a malicious gleam in his eye. The boy raised his foot, pulling back and aiming a kick for his face.

Bruce kept waiting expectantly for the other guy to take control and protect him from the blow, hoping that he would somehow manage to not harm these children.

But it never happened, and the boy's booted foot smashed against his face. Bruce's vision burst into light, and he felt numb. He was filled with dread, knowing that he should be feeling unspeakable pain, but there was nothing.

But then the rest of the children rushed forward, punching and kicking and screaming; and with them came the pain.

After far too much time, his eyes began to close and his consciousness began to slip away from him.

With a gasp, Bruce opened his eyes. Sága was now staring at him with wide eyes, her hands clamped over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered, the sound barely escaping her hands, "I am so sorry. I didn't—I didn't mean to do that."

"What _was _that?"

She lowered her hands from her face, wrapping her arms tightly around her own waist as she shrunk back into the couch. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

He pulled himself up into the seat beside her, pressing his hand against her unmarred cheek. "That was…you, wasn't it? A memory?" She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch and nodding her head gently. "And…how did I see it?"

She placed her hands on his, holding it even closer to her cheek before answering. "It is a trick that I have," she told him softly, her fingers gripping his. "It allows others to see what I see, though it's never…I've never done so with a memory before. It would seem there are aspects of my magic that even I am unaware of."

Bruce pulled her into his lap, pleased when she tucked her face into the crook of his neck, the shaking of her body finally stilling. She ran her fingers over his chest as he buried his in her hair. For a long time, they sat there in silence. He kissed the top of her head before asking his next question. "Who were those kids?"

She sighed. "The children of the village I grew up in were…not fond of me. Nor I them. I was…_different_, in a time where different could only mean evil." She sat up straight, preparing to tell her story, though her fingers never left his chest. "My father was once rather, um, young and arrogant. He did not care for Midgardian marriage rites; he and my mother were considered wed according to the laws of Asgard, and that was all that mattered to him. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for my mother's family, who happened to be the rulers of their clan. She was sent to live with distant relatives when she became pregnant with no husband to speak of aside from her claim of a god. When the child she birthed had dark skin, she was banished and disowned. But the rumors followed wherever she went."

Bruce frowned deeply. "And your dad just _let_ this happen?"

Sága shrugged. "Asgard was at war. He could not afford to visit us as often, or watch us as closely as he later did. And my mother was too kind-hearted to speak ill of her family, or to upset him. She told him she had moved away intentionally. Father never knew the truth until many years later."

Bruce didn't know what more to say to that, so he just pulled her close again. She smiled and leaned against him.

"How bad do I look, Dr. Banner?"

He chuckled, ruffling her hair. "You look as beautiful as always."

"Oh, you are so sweet," she murmured, brushing her lips against his stubble-covered cheek.

Very, very gently, he passed his thumb over her right cheek. Her skin twitched in a slight wince; he hated to see her hurt, but was glad that she was finally reacting to the pain. "With the way you heal, these should be completely gone in a day or two."

"Thank you. And thank you for coming to get me. How did you even know I was in trouble?"

"Jarvis told us. He was looking out for you."

She looked surprised, but thoroughly pleased. "Oh, thank you so much, Jarvis!"

"You are quite welcome, Ms. Sága," the AI responded, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.

"What, don't _I_ get any thanks?" came Stark's voice from beside them. Sága whirled to grin at him as he lowered himself heavily into the opposite couch. "I had a whole media shitstorm to smooth over, especially since big and green decided to make an appearance. You started quite the spectacle."

Sága's grin faded, and she hung her head. "I am sorry, Tony. I never expected such a thing to happen…"

Bruce glared over her head at Stark. He really didn't need to make her feel bad for something that wasn't her fault.

Tony rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air. "Hey, look, it's alright. I'll do something outrageous in the next week; they'll forget this ever happened."

She frowned deeply, glancing up at Bruce. "I just don't understand it. What were they even doing there?"

"They wanted to see you," he answered with a shrug.

"_Me?_"

Tony laughed. "You don't even know? You've got quite the devoted following. The world's been dying to meet you, but the combined forces of Pepper and Brucie have held 'em back until now."

She looked upset and uncertain and slightly frightened by such a revelation, burrowing further into Bruce. "But why would they be so interested in _me_?"

Bruce chuckled. "Because you're fascinating, and mysterious, and beautiful all rolled into one."

She flushed a deep red, staring at him in wonder. Stark, however, groaned, rising quickly and heading behind the bar. "Ugh. You guys need to go somewhere else if you're going to get all lovey-dovey. Save the rescue sex for the bedroom, alright?"

Through her blush, Sága grinned shyly. "That can be arranged," she whispered, her white magic pouring out of her mouth and swirling around them as Bruce smirked.


	2. Merry Christmas, Dr Banner

Author's Note: Wow, okay. Sorry about the delay, you guys. Honestly, I wasn't planning on uploading this one next. I wanted to do something much more emotionally complex, about Hulk's reaction to Sága's prolonged absence and eventual return. But I've had a very stressful day/week/life, and I wanted fluff, so I wrote some goddamn fluff. Hope you like it.

* * *

Episode Two: _Merry Christmas, Dr. Banner_

"Do you ever think of leaving New York?"

Sága craned her neck to look up at Bruce, surprise and confusion in her golden eyes. They hadn't spoken for nearly an hour, content to sit together in silence before the crackling fire, drinking tea. She chewed her lip, considering his question. "In a way. Not really. I used to travel far, and often, whenever the mood hit me. Whenever I wanted a change. I haven't done that in a long time now." She settled her head back down on his shoulder, snuggling close. "I'm happy here, with you."

Bruce smiled, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. "I'm happy with you, too. But, do you… I dunno, does 'the mood' ever hit you?"

She chuckled quietly, nodding her head. "Well, certainly. Your world has changed a great deal since my last visit, as have the other realms. There is much I wish to see first-hand; not from this distance… And there is only so much Tony Stark a person can handle."

Bruce laughed at that, wrapping his arm around her even tighter, pulling her closer. "True. After tomorrow, we should go somewhere. Just the two of us."

"_Really_?" She turned to him with a grin, her eyes shining. "Oh, Bruce, I'd love that!" She sighed happily, thinking of all the places they could go. He simply chuckled in response, glad to have made her so happy. It was easy to do.

After a moment, she turned to him shyly. "Would you like to go back to Calcutta? I know you miss it…"

"Well, that's not really what I was thinking for a romantic trip with my love," he said with a crooked grin, fully pleased with the blush that crept up her cheeks when he called her that. Getting her to blush was even easier than making her happy. "But I wouldn't mind to stop by. Maybe check on the kids…"

While working as a doctor in Calcutta, Bruce had made depressingly frequent visits to a nearby orphanage. The missionaries who ran the place were low on funds, and Bruce had offered his services at little to no cost. They paid him whenever they could, or fed him when they couldn't. He had grown close to the children there; they didn't know to be afraid to play with him, or grab his hand, or jump on his back without warning. In his most lonesome days, he had craved their fearlessness, and began to visit just to see them, even when they weren't hurt or sick. He often told Sága stories about them; they were the only ones to make his time in India bearable, and their unmitigated joy had kept the other guy at bay.

"I would like to meet them," Sága murmured happily, taking a sip of his tea since her cup was now empty.

The bell of a nearby church chimed midnight, ringing loudly through the quiet night and echoing through the nearly silent Tower. Grinning, Bruce turned and kissed her, his hand creeping into her soft, white hair. "Merry Christmas, Sága. Can we go to bed now?"

She laughed, leaning in for one more kiss. "Yes, of course. Merry Christmas, Bruce."

* * *

Tony woke them all at sunrise, blaring an alarm from all speakers throughout the building. Exhausted, Bruce tugged on a tee-shirt, trying not to think of how easily the other guy could tear through the soft cotton. His too-big sweatpants would probably stretch with him, but hopefully there wouldn't even be a reason for it.

It had been a long time since he'd made the change, and he could feel the other guy itching to be let out. He didn't like being kept inside for long. Bruce rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake himself up. Before he and Sága left, he would probably need to head down to the Hulk-proof basement and let the other guy have his way for a while.

_Oh God,_ _Sága…_

Quickly, he snatched the small box from the bottom of his sock drawer, shoving it into his pocket. Then he grabbed his glasses from the side table and stumbled out into the hall, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

He met a disheveled, bleary-eyed Steve in the elevator, greeting him with a nod and a grunt. Good God, it was early.

He didn't mind the time so much when they got up to the top, where Sága was waiting for him with a grin, a fresh pot of tea, and a plate of warm gingerbread cookies.

Whenever she actually slept, Sága was the furthest thing from a morning person, refusing to even speak to him until she'd had her first cup of coffee. But she had been excited about celebrating her first Christmas on earth with friends—too excited to sleep.

Bruce kissed her before grabbing a cookie, munching quietly as they waited for Natasha and Clint to arrive. Tony was running around in a red Santa hat, barking orders that no one but Jarvis obeyed—and even he did so grudgingly. Pepper watched him from her spot on the couch beside the tree, grinning sleepily at her boyfriend over a cup of coffee.

Two cookies later, Clint and Natasha shuffled out of the elevator, looking angry at being awakened at such an hour but resigned to their fate. Stark rushed over to them, shoving them toward the couches, and then began tossing presents around the room.

The opening of presents was a short-lived flurry of chaos and wrapping paper, lasting no more than ten minutes. Barton was beside himself at the quiver of magic white arrows that would never run out, courtesy of Sága. Steve was already spinning a jazz record on the vintage phonograph Tony gave him. Also from Tony was Sága's new plush Hulk doll that she hugged to her chest with a broad grin.

From Natasha, Clint, and SHIELD, Bruce received an ominously-blank manila envelope. Inside were a packet of approvals, permits, and plans to install a spectrometer on the roof of Stark Tower, which had him grinning like a kid. He hadn't worked hands-on with a spectrometer in at least five years.

Not quite as amusing was a flat box that Tony handed over with a wink, saying, "This one's for both of you. But mostly you." Inside he found a bright green set of lingerie, though how Tony had acquired Sága's measurements he really didn't want to know.

Once things had calmed down, Sága jumped to her feet and faced him with a grin. "I need to go retrieve your gift, Bruce," she said, the words whirling around her in a blur of white. "I'll be right back."

When she was gone, he looked around at the others, who all shrugged, as clueless as he was. He stood slowly, helping Pepper gather together the scraps of wrapping paper that had been thrown haphazardly around the room. Tony didn't even notice, too busy having Jarvis scan the huge chunk of what Sága claimed was Vibranium, ensuring its authenticity. The results were positive. With this much Vibranium, he might never need to make any more.

Bruce heard them before he could see anyone through the swirl of white that appeared beside the tree. When the magic cleared, Sága stood with a huge grin in the middle of a pile of dirty, brown children. They stared around the room with wide eyes and open mouths, until one of the younger girls spotted him and screeched. The next thing he knew, the group of kids was rushing to him, tackling him to the ground and screaming in a mad jumble of Bengali, Hindi, and Urdu.

If he hadn't recognized the children, the surprise attack surely would have awakened the other guy. But even _he_ could recognize that Vijaya, Uma, Kala, Ankita and her brother Anish, Devdan, and Lalit were no threat.

Bruce scooped as many of the children up into his arms as he could, hugging them tightly, and straightened up with a broad grin. The rest clung to his legs and waist and the hem of his shirt.

On the other side of the couch, Romanoff had lost all color in her face, and had her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of a pistol. He couldn't really blame her for being frightened, but even that painful reminder of his "condition" couldn't diminish his good mood.

"_We have about two hours before they need to be returned. How about we head down to the basement and play some football?_" Sága asked, in absolutely flawless Bengali, holding up a white and black ball.

Bruce knew that his mouth was hanging open, while the kids cheered and tugged him toward the elevator, following Sága. Really, he should have known she could speak it. Being from Asgard, it was impressive that she could even speak English; it just had never occurred to him. He set Uma and Lalit back down on the ground so he could take her hand, and she instantly laced her fingers with his. Good God, he was in love with her.

"Hey, where are you going?" Tony called after them. "Are you playing soccer? I wanna play soccer!"

* * *

It was the most disorganized game of football ever.

Pepper and the rest of the Avengers ended up following them downstairs. Steve and Natasha were appointed as referees, since the former could hardly tap the ball without embedding it in a wall, and the latter seemed neither fond of nor comfortable around children. They had started out with teams—girls against boys—but even that tentative structure dissolved in a matter of minutes. The kids were extremely skilled when it came to technique, but they were negligent when it came to rules. Tony was even worse; he seemed to have formed his own team, scoring in whichever of the makeshift goals he wanted to, and waving his Santa hat around as a red card whenever anyone took the ball from him.

Add to that the fact that only the two eldest kids, Ankita and Anish, could speak any degree of English, and only Bruce, Sága, and Natasha could speak the other languages. It was a hilarious train wreck of a game.

All too soon, Sága announced that they needed to get ready to leave. The kids were ushered back upstairs, where they were each given a gingerbread cookie and a glass of milk.

As they munched, she busied herself with packaging up the rest of the cookies in a brown paper bag, tied shut with ribbon from the tree, for the children who hadn't been able to come along. Bruce sidled up alongside of her, placing a firm kiss against her temple when he was sure the kids were too distracted to notice. "_How long have you been planning this?_" he asked, the Bengali rolling off his tongue before he realized that it was, as fresh as if he had never stopped speaking it.

She sent him a mischievous smirk, answering him in the same language. "_Ever since you first mentioned them. I visited the missionaries two weeks ago to acquire permission, while you were at work in the laboratory. I was back before you even noticed I was gone._"

"_You sly thing. Last night, you said you'd never met them."_

Her smirk widened. _"But I was correct in saying that I've spent too much time in Tony's company."_

He chuckled. Stark definitely was a bad influence.

After a moment's hesitation, he reached over and took her hand in his, causing her to look at him. "Thank you, Sága," he whispered meaningfully. A smile spread across her pretty face, and she leaned in for a kiss that he gladly provided. He hoped it would last forever, so that he could convey the depths of his gratitude. He had needed this. He hadn't felt this calm and at ease in years, with the happy exception of those blessed times when he held her naked body against his own.

Sadly, the kiss was cut short by the groans and squeals of the children behind them, who had apparently finished their cookies. Bruce pulled away with a groan of his own, reluctant to abandon her soft lips. Sága, however, pulled away with a cheery grin, brandishing the bag of cookies like a trophy. "_Come along; let's take these to the others!"_

* * *

Bruce went along for the ride, keeping his arm tight around Sága's waist as they traveled. He still hadn't quite gotten the hang of it, though the kids themselves seemed totally fine with their molecules being torn apart and put back together someplace else. He wasn't sure if that's how it actually worked, but damn if it didn't feel like it.

Susan and Earl, the missionaries in charge of the orphanage, greeted Bruce kindly upon arrival, utterly unconcerned by the sudden appearance of two adults and seven children in their entryway. He was informed that the rest of the children had wanted badly to visit him as well, but had all come down with a cold.

"_We received care from the new physician in town—not that we would ever want to replace you!" _Susan reassured graciously. _"But he's a good man, and does most work for free."_

Bruce asked to see what medications they'd been prescribed, and was surprised at the quality of drugs they had received. He wondered if SHIELD or Tony was somehow involved, and made a mental note to question Clint and Jarvis about who exactly was taking care of his old practice.

Then he asked to see the kids themselves, and that was a treat in and of itself. Even through their sniffles and thin coughs, the kids beamed and struggled to get out of their beds to see him. He made a point to go around to each bed with a hug, while Sága passed around cookies. One or two of the faces he remembered were absent from the group, and a few were new to him but accepted the hug and cookie without question. Other than those few, Bruce was surprised at himself when he realized that he still remembered each and every one of their names.

He read them their favorite bedtime story—some silly thing about a kitten that lived on the streets but grew up to be a tiger—just like he used to, with the lights dim and the youngest girl, Vijaya, in his lap. He could feel Sága watching him from the doorway as he read, but refused to meet her gaze. Not now. It would be too much, too perfect.

After the book was read, he tucked Vijaya into her bed and turned off the lights, reaching for Sága's hand in the darkness and walking with her back to the front door. They said their goodbyes to Susan and Earl, promising to visit again soon. It was a promise Bruce fully meant to keep.

Then he wrapped his arms around Sága and rested his forehead on her shoulder, not caring how pathetic or desperate or childish it must look, as her magic began to swirl around them and carry them back to Stark Tower.

* * *

The top floor looked immaculate, as if several pounds of wrapping paper had not spontaneously exploded there in the past few hours. That was probably courtesy of Pepper Potts, though she and the others were nowhere to be found. This was his chance.

Sága gave a mighty yawn, tugging gently on his hand. "I haven't slept in a week, I've been so excited," she murmured softly. "Come on, let's go take a nap."

"Uh, hang—hang on. I-I, uh… I didn't get a chance to give you your present yet."

Her golden eyes shined like stars, and Bruce's heart felt like it was beating out a samba. He shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly retrieving the black velvet box and thrusting it into her hands before he could talk himself out of it. It was too late now…

Her brow furrowed in confusion, and when she lifted the lid and found a sensible white diamond set in a gold ring, it seemed like she sucked in all of the air from the room in one mighty gasp. "Bruce, what… What is this?"

"It's a, uh… It's a ring. I-I want you to m-marry me… Will you?"

All of that air rushed back out of her mouth, carried along by the familiar white light. And then her arms were tight around his neck, and he was stumbling back, and he fell to the floor with her on top of him. The other guy stirred when Bruce hit the ground, but when he recognized that it was caused by a blissfully, uncontrollably happy Sága, he retreated without incident.

"Yes! Oh, yes! Of course I will! Oh, Bruce!" The light that poured, and tumbled, and rolled out of her mouth in an unending flood was brighter than anything he had ever seen.


	3. Need

Author's Note: Hi, guys! Long time no see! I've been working on this one for quite a while now... After this, I'm probably going to take a break from writing this story, in order to work on a few others. But don't worry, I will be coming back to this at some point, to honor all of the lovely and wonderful and amazing suggestions you guys have been giving me. Seriously, they're brilliant! And also don't worry, because I'm leaving you off with a _good_ one.

**I had to bump up the rating to M for this chapter. **So there's that. Also, in regard to **timeline**: this one is pretty early on, only about a week or so after Sága returned to earth. I believe this even puts it before the events of the epilogue of the other story.

Also (and this, as well as the rest of the chapter, contains a **spoiler** if you still haven't seen the movie...in which case, how are you a thing that exists?), I should point out that this episode refers to Coulson's death. I for one adamantly believe that Coulson survived. But, at the time of this particular episode, the Avengers have not yet been made aware of that fact.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! Thanks for reading!

**Edit: **I was not content with the adult ending to this chapter (and, from the lack of reviews, I kinda figured that you guys weren't too impressed, either). So I changed it and hopefully made it better. If nothing else, _I _feel way better about this revision. If adult content isn't your thing, feel free to just skip that part. You won't be missing much, if any, of the plot. Just stop reading after Bruce asks, "Next?" and there's a double horizontal line.

* * *

Episode Three: _Need_

Sága stood fuming, arms crossed tightly over her chest, glaring down at the small fire at her feet, when the robot called Dummy came screeching out of the elevator to extinguish the flames. An annoyed Tony Stark stepped out of the elevator behind it, followed closely by an amused Bruce.

"Sága! You gotta stop lighting my stuff on fire!" Tony reprimanded, gesturing wildly.

"It was not cooperating," she snapped. Tony shoved Dummy out of the way, trying to salvage the thin glass screen that allowed her to interact with Jarvis' systems. It was likely irreparable.

Tony opened and closed his mouth in disbelief, looking for something to say, before turning to Bruce. "Ah! Girlfriend! Do something!"

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, clearly trying not to laugh. With great difficulty. "Okay, yeah, so Sága… I get that this is difficult for you. But y-you can't keep lighting stuff on fire because it's difficult. Okay?"

She frowned. "I did not mean to," she murmured, sheepish.

"I know, sweetie," he acknowledged, stepping forward and kissing her cheek, "I know."

"Hey! Hey! Don't take her side!" Tony pouted.

"Uh, _girlfriend_, remember?" Bruce walked off toward the mini kitchen. "I wash my hands of this whole thing."

Tony sighed heavily, as if this was the most difficult thing he'd ever done. "Alright. Let's go over this again, shall we?" He dumped the used screen into the trash, sliding another out of the counter. "Show me what you did this time."

She heaved a sigh as well, accepting this new screen. She jabbed it viciously, trying to get something—anything—to work. "I do everything you've told me, but it _just won't work_!"

He snatched it out of her hands. "Okay, okay, I think I get it now. Look, just don't touch it so hard, okay? Like this." He demonstrated, touching the screen lightly. "You gotta be gentle."

Her frown deepened. "I am the daughter of _Heimdall_," she reminded sharply. "I am about as gentle as Tyr is _amiable_."

"Right, okay. I'll just go ahead and assume I'm not gonna get that comparison. Look, just… I know! Treat it like Bruce!"

"I beg your pardon?"

From the stove where he was brewing tea, Bruce called, "I wash my hands of this, Tony!"

"No, seriously. God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you don't…_touch_ him like that, right? I assume you're _gentle_ with him, right?"

She narrowed her eyes, considering. "I suppose your words make sense." She accepted the screen from him, running her fingers over the screen lightly, her eyes brightening when she saw how responsive it now was.

Tony smirked. "There ya go… So no more fires now, right?"

"I can make no guarantees. But I will try to restrain myself," she assured.

"Eh, I'll take what I can get. Alright, Banner, break's over. Time to do science!" he exclaimed, practically prancing back to the elevator.

Bruce followed him with much less fervor, cradling his tea with both hands. He kissed Sága's cheek as he passed. "Work, work, work," he murmured with a wink, stepping into the elevator.

* * *

"You shouldn't be up here," Sága said with a sigh, holding out a steaming mug of coffee to Clint Barton. She had not meant to sneak up on him, but his shoulders tensed a fraction in surprise at the sound of her voice. To his credit he hid it well.

"I didn't see your name on the door," he shot, with more bite than she had been anticipating, before taking the mug from her hands.

She snatched the transparent video interface from the counter in front of him, easing herself into one of the gaudy, worn armchairs scattered about the room. "You know what I mean. You are always welcome here…but that doesn't mean you _should_ be." With a raised brow, she indicated the sheet of glass in her hand.

He shrugged. "I _don't_ know what you mean. I just came here for the view. Best seat in the house, y'know."

"It is, isn't it?" She gazed fondly around the room Tony had designed for her, a glass dome at the very top of the Avengers Tower, furnished with cozy loveseats that faced all directions. From here, she could see the entire world, and all the nine realms. "But you need not lie to me, Barton." Gently, as Tony had taught her, she ran her fingers over the screen, pulling up the video feed he had been viewing before she walked in. As expected, it was from that fateful morning on the Helicarrier, the attack he had led to release Loki and scatter the mighty Avengers. "This is not a path you want to take; certainly not in solitude."

He scowled and avoided her gaze, slumping down into the chair across from her and taking a long swallow of coffee. "I needed to know. I can't expect you to understand that."

She laughed bitterly, sliding the screen back into the receptacle beside her chair. "A thousand years old, and you think I don't understand feeling guilt? Honey, I'm dating _Bruce Banner_."

A corner of his mouth tipped up in a smirk, but he still refused to look at her. "It's different. I worked with them. They were my friends."

She tucked her legs beneath her with a sigh. "Did you, by any chance, watch the footage of the death of Agent Coulson?"

"First one I saw."

"Yeah… I've seen it, too." This time he visibly jumped, startled by her voice, and whirled to find her perched on the armrest of his chair. "I taught Loki how to do that. 'Rabbiting', Coulson called it. If I hadn't taught him that… Phil Coulson might still be alive. Can you imagine that? The man who still believed in heroes, dead because of a magic trick I taught my best friend a few hundred years ago? And, yeah, maybe his death helped convince the _Avengers_ to _assemble_, and maybe if they hadn't had the push, we mightn't have won…but because of it, the only friends I've ever really had on this entire planet lost someone they deeply cared about and greatly admired."

She stood, and strode over to one of the great windows that walled in her lookout tower, resting a shoulder and her forehead against the cool pane of glass. To the west, the sun was setting below this horizon, painting the sky in a myriad of colors. "I'm not trying to demean what you're feeling, and I'm not saying you shouldn't deal with what's happened. But trust me; you don't want to do it alone."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, but he was still glaring moodily into his coffee. "You should talk to Bruce sometime. He's a great listener, and I think he would understand better than most."

Clint nodded his head slowly. "Yeah…I might just do that."

"Good." She gave him a moment to collect his thoughts, before stepping away from the window with a grin. "Anyway, that's not why I came to see you." She plopped back into the chair she had vacated, leaning forward intently with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Clint eyed her warily, gulping down his coffee before taking the bait. "Yeah? What can I do for ya?"

If possible, her grin widened. "I need to speak with Hulk. Do you want to help me blow something up?"

* * *

"Remind me why we're doing this?" Clint murmured.

Sága didn't look up from the screen in front of her. Jarvis had delivered the message that Bruce was needed in the basement—they thought it would be best if he were as close to the Hulk-proof room as possible when he changed—and he was almost here. "I was absent for three months. And during that time, I heard every word he said. He pretends that everything is fine, but I know it's not. I know how much I hurt him…"

"So, what? You wanna apologize to the big guy?"

She chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm not sure what I want from this. Maybe I won't feel so guilty if I let him hit me a few times…"

"_Hit_ you? Hey, wait, that wasn't part of the—"

"He's here!" she hissed, cutting him off.

Bruce stepped around the corner, hands in his pockets, looking mildly confused. "Hello? Sága, are you down here? Hey, what—?" He whirled as the arrow went whizzing past, embedding itself in the wall behind him. He turned back around to look in the direction the arrow had come from, the expression on his face both annoyed and slightly betrayed. "_Clint_—" he warned, but then the arrow blew, knocking Bruce clean off his feet.

Sága was already halfway to him when Hulk lurched to his feet with a roar that shook the corridor. She skidded to a stop before him, holding her hands up in a sign of surrender. "Hulk! Hulk, I'm so sorry we had to scare you, but I needed to see you!"

Hulk bared his teeth and growled lowly, his shoulders tensing, leaning in close enough that she could feel his hot breath on her face. "_Sága NOT need Hulk_."

His huge fist grabbed her roughly around the waist, effortlessly lifting her off the ground, and then he turned and bolted down the corridor to his room. He tossed her inside as though she was a rag doll, and she bounced off the ground twice before sliding to a stop with a groan. When she finally managed to pry her head up and look around, the door was sealing shut with a hiss, and Hulk was crouching in front of her, pressing his fists into the ground and breathing heavily.

"Hulk, I'm sorr—" He grabbed her legs and flung her across the room. She crashed face-first into the wall, crumpling to the ground. "…Ow."

"_Sága not need Hulk!_" He grabbed her again, lifting her and crushing her back against the wall, her feet hanging far above the floor. "Sága _lie_," he growled.

"No!" she gasped. She was not nearly as indestructible as Thor and Loki, though her magic worked to heal her when she was injured. She could feel it now, buzzing in her chest, reinforcing the ribs that threatened to shatter beneath his strength. "No, Hulk, I do need you!"

He pulled her from the wall, just to slam her back into it even harder. Her vision swam, a blur of green as he leaned in close. "Don't lie to me."

This whisper was worse than anything he'd yet said or done. His eyes flashed brown, for just half a second, and she stopped caring about the pain or the fear; she had to make this right, no matter what. "It's not a lie, Hulk. I need you!"

He roared, turning and smashing her into the ground. She cried out at the pain. "Don't_ lie _to me_!_" He panted heavily, watching her as she gasped for breath. "Sága leave. Sága not come back."

"But I _did_ come back, Hulk," she spat out between breaths. "You can see; I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere." He growled again, rolling his shoulders as he considered her words. "You know me, Hulk. You know what I can do, that I could leave this room whenever I wanted. But I'm not, I'm staying with you."

His brow lowered as he bent and picked her up again, this time a little less roughly. He squeezed her around the middle until she cried out, and then immediately relaxed his grip. He leaned in close, confused. "Why Sága not leave?"

She took a deep breath, her magic spreading out from her chest and through all of her limbs. "Because I need you to know that I'm never going to again. And this is the only way I can think to prove that to you. No matter what you do to me, I won't leave."

The overhead speaker sparked to life, Tony Stark's voice echoing through the room. "Sága, this is crazy! Open the door; he'll _kill_ you!"

"Jarvis, keep that door sealed!" she gasped, "He won't kill me!" Hurt her, perhaps; but not kill.

Clint and Tony cursed in the background, while Jarvis apologized, "I'm sorry, sir. It seems she has overridden your controls."

Hulk ignored all of this, squinting his eyes at her, considering her words. "Sága hurt Bruce, hurt Hulk."

She nodded softly. "I know. I didn't want to."

He released her from his grip, setting her down softly. Even so, her legs gave out beneath her, and she found herself sprawling on the floor in a moment.

"Hulk not want hurt Sága," he told her, as quietly as he could, his voice sounding more like Bruce's than she'd ever heard it.

"I didn't want to hurt you, either," she repeated, reaching a hand up to him. Hesitantly, he reached out and placed a single finger in the palm of her hand, pressing against her skin.

"Everyone leave Bruce, hurt Bruce. Hulk not let anyone hurt Bruce."

She nodded. "I know. You take care of him, don't you?" He nodded his head quickly with a snort. "Thank you."

The ground shook as Hulk seated himself beside her. He grabbed her again, but this time much more gently, and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "Hulk not want hurt Sága," he repeated, poking her softly, indicating the light that danced along her skin where he had grabbed her and squeezed.

"I know you didn't. It's alright, I can take it." She took a deep, ragged breath, holding up a glowing hand. The pain was nearly gone now, leaving her with the strange discomfort of her bones realigning, her muscles knitting themselves back together. "See? I'm already healing myself."

His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to his chest. "Sága be alright?"

She grinned. "Yeah, Hulk. I'll be alright." His chest rumbled, something like a growl, but softer, almost a purr. She chuckled, pressing her forehead against his chest. "I'm sorry I left," she murmured against his hot skin. "I should have stayed. I thought it was my duty, my responsibility. Maybe it was…but I wish I had stayed with you."

He purred again, resting his heavy chin on top of her head. They sat in silence for several minutes, Hulk's breaths growing steady and even. She wondered if he were about to shrink into Bruce, now that he was relaxed and there was no immediate danger. But their peace was abruptly disturbed by the door sliding open, Iron Man darting through with Hawkeye tumbling in behind him, bow drawn. Hulk roared at them, lurching to his feet, jostling Sága enough to make her hiss in pain, but he did not release her from his arms.

"No, stop! Look, it's alright! I'm alright!" she called, hoping to diffuse the situation before it got started. Stark flew too close, and Hulk roared again, turning his body so as to shield her from him. "No, _stop_!" she called again.

Tony drifted to the floor, and Barton lowered his bow. "You sure you're okay, Sága?" Clint called.

"Yes, I'm sure! We're all okay. At least we _were_, until you two barged in here like that and scared us!"

"Hey, somebody had to use sense," Stark shot, jabbing an accusing finger in her direction, "seeing as you're too busy putting yourself at _risk_!"

Hulk growled lowly, threateningly. "Hulk not hurt Sága! Hulk keep Sága safe!"

"Okay, yeah, we see that now, big guy," Stark admitted. "You just had us worried for a minute."

Hulk growled again, and Clint raised his hands in surrender. "It's cool, we're going. We'll just…leave you two alone, yeah?"

Iron Man nodded, backing out the door as well. "Yeah, sure. We're going."

Hulk watched them leave, and didn't relax until the door had sealed shut again. Then he sat again, resting his chin back on top of her head. She grinned and kissed his chest, feeling it rumble beneath her as he purred again.

"You're going to keep me safe, too?"

Another purr. "Hulk not let anyone hurt Sága."

* * *

Eventually, he relaxed enough to shrink down into a sleeping Bruce, and she was able to bring him back to their room. She removed what remained of his pants—he wore nothing underneath, not that she would ever complain about that—and tucked him into bed. Then she stood and headed to the bathroom to assess the damage, leaving the door open in case Bruce woke up.

There were a number of minor cuts, and a particularly nasty scrape still present on her cheek. She was trying to focus on that one, her hands glowing white when she heard his voice calling, "…Sága?" She shook the magic from her hands and hoped it had healed enough for him not to notice, and headed in to the bedroom.

He was sitting up now, the blankets pooling at his waist, staring at his hands in his lap. He looked sad, and lost, and betrayed. Her only other major relationship had been with Loki, a relationship centered on manipulation and desire; any argument or disagreement had been easily kissed away and ignored. But this was Bruce; and no matter how delectable he looked, with his hair tousled and his skin glistening with sweat, naked under those sheets, she knew this wasn't something she could kiss away.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry we scared you."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "That was a stupid thing to do."

"You weren't being honest with me."

He looked at her from between his fingers. "I could have killed you."

"Oh, not you too," she groaned, rolling her eyes.

"This isn't a _joke_, Sága! You could have been seriously injured. Or worse."

"But I _wasn't_. Hey, look at me!" She placed a hand on his cheek, turning him to face her. "Yeah, you're strong. Stronger than anything I've ever seen. And you could have really hurt me, but you _didn't_."

This was the wrong thing to do, as it drew his attention to the still-healing scrape on her cheek. She tried to shrink back from him, but he caught her, squinting his eyes, running his thumb over the scrape. "What's this?" he whispered.

She couldn't meet his eyes. "It's nothing. My healing magic is…imprecise. Big injuries, such as broken bones and wide cuts, can be healed without problem. Minor cuts and scrapes are much more difficult for me."

When she managed to look up at him, his eyes were wide. "B-broken bones?"

"I'm just speaking generally," she hurried to assure him, "I was not saying that you actually broke any bones."

"But I _did_ hurt you." It wasn't a question.

She sighed. "You tossed me around a bit—but it was nothing I couldn't handle!"

He buried his face in his hands. "Sága, you can't do that again. You don't understand the sort of risk—"

"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do," she snapped, bristling. "And there _was no risk_. You and Hulk are the same person, no matter how vehemently you deny it. And you would never hurt me, so it stands to reason that neither would he."

"But I did hurt you!"

"Because _I hurt you_!" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She did not want to argue with him; but he had to understand. "I hurt you. And it was a problem that you tried to ignore, and likely would have continued to ignore until Hulk next made an appearance. At least this way, it happened on my terms, in a controlled environment."

"So this was, what? An experiment?"

"No, of course not, Bruce! I just… I needed to see how you really felt about my absence."

"And you couldn't have just _asked_ me?"

She smirked, glancing up at him. "Would you have told me the truth? That it hurt you, because you thought I'd left, just like everyone else has left you? That it made you angry enough to want to throw me across a room?"

He ran a hand through his hair, eventually releasing a short, low, breathy chuckle. "No, I probably wouldn't have said that."

She leaned in close to him, and then hesitated to see if he would pull away. When he didn't, she kissed him. "I'm so sorry that I was gone from you for so long. It was the worst thing I've ever experienced; worse than when my mother died; much worse than the year I had my voice and magic taken away, and thought that Loki was dead. I wish never to experience that again. I plan to be with you for as long as you'll have me. I will not leave you…but I _need_ you to be honest with me. Even if it's something you think I won't want to hear."

He took a fist of her hair, making her look him in the eye. "You have to promise me that you'll never make me change again." His voice was desperate, almost pleading. "I can deal with the others; they can have their pranks, or whatever. But not…not you, okay? I can't have you do that."

"I promise. Never again."

Finally, his crooked smile made an appearance. He relaxed his fist, running his fingers through her hair, and kissed her. When he pulled away, he ran the pad of his thumb over her cheek. "Now…let me see these cuts and scrapes."

She slid off the bed and stood, pulling off her shirt and shimmying out of her jeans (neither of which had fared particularly well against the Hulk), pretending not to notice the way his eyes darkened, drinking her in. She couldn't fight the grin that spread across her face when she climbed into bed beside him and he pulled her close.

"You're going to have to point them out to me," he told her with a sheepish grin. "I assume my glasses are..?"

She laughed. "Sorry, they couldn't be salvaged." She pointed to her shoulder, which had taken the brunt of it when she skidded along the floor. "The worst one, I think, is here…" She froze, momentarily forgetting how to breathe when he leaned forward and placed his lips against her shoulder. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but that wasn't it.

He pulled away with a self-satisfied smirk. "Next?"

* * *

She continued pointing out the small cuts that peppered her skin, which quickly dissolved into him kissing wherever he wanted as she giggled. But then he kissed the inside of her thigh and her laugh was strangled off by a moan.

She gripped him by the shoulders, digging her fingertips in to his skin, careful not to scratch him. He had sheepishly warned her during their first time together not to scratch him or break the skin—even the smallest drop of blood could trigger an appearance from Hulk. So she kept her nails trimmed short, and tried to be careful with him.

Bruce ran his tongue along her clit and she whimpered; he slid two fingers inside, curling them just so, and her whole body shuddered. And with a combination of the two, he quickly had her writhing and squirming beneath him. He was good at this, entirely too good at this.

He pulled his mouth away for a moment, just long enough to lay his cheek against her thigh and murmur, "Oh, _Saga_…" And then his tongue was on her again, and she came with a surprised gasp, convulsing around his fingers.

She could feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed his way up her body, but she was entirely too well satisfied to be annoyed by his smugness. When he made it to her mouth, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair and tugged gently, so she could look him in the eye. "I need you inside me _now_."

He crushed his lips against hers and thrust up inside her, burying himself deeply and pulling out and plunging even deeper. She needed him five minutes ago, needed him right now, needed him hard and fast and _oh, yes, just like that!_ He was _entirely_ too good at this…

He cupped her breasts with his big, warm hands and squeezed, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, making her arch her back and press into him. And then his hands slid up and over her breasts until he was grasping her shoulders. He stilled himself inside her and pushed her back down onto the bed, breaking their kiss abruptly, leaving her with wide, confused eyes and an open, panting mouth. Had she done something wrong?

His hands began to slide again, along her shoulders and collar and up her neck, until he was gently caressing her cheeks. "I need to hear you," he breathed.

His hips began to move again, and his mouth and tongue explored her breasts and shoulders and neck, his teeth gliding over her skin.

She moaned and murmured and whimpered beneath him, calling his name over and over again. She tangled her fingers in his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist, crying out at this new angle. He gave a number of short, quick, erratic thrusts before burying himself as deeply as he could. She opened her mouth wide, too breathless to moan, pleasure and magic pouring out of her mouth in waves. He came with a low, guttural groan, her body clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of her, completely spent, panting for breath. She unwound her legs from around his waist and her fingers from his hair, running her hands up and down his back as he breathed against her skin. One of her hands travelled even lower and she gave his firm butt a squeeze, causing him to roll off and out of her with a breathy chuckle.

He laid on his side, just staring at her, and she met his gaze with a lazy and contented smile. "Oh, my God…"

Her smile broadened into a wicked grin. "Yes, darling?"


End file.
